Into Submission
by ThatOneBritishLass
Summary: A Sheriarty/Jimlock fanfiction. Please do leave some feedback as it would help my motivation a lot!


**I've Just Decided to Press the Restart Button**

Sherlock opened his eyes, he tried to move his arms but they would only move to a certain extent. Judging by the clanging, Sherlock assumed that his arms were being held at bay by two sets of chains, one on each side. The only sound he could hear was himself panting heavily. Sherlock grunted and raised his head to observe the room he was being held captive in. Stairs, Door, Chair, Bed. The room seemed normal but a bit too causal considering he was being bound to a wall with chains.

Sherlock's attention was soon directed towards the stairs as he heard footsteps, followed by voices. A man walked down dressed in a suit, whistling to himself while a woman followed him. "Hello Sherlock, long time no see." Sherlock clenched his jaws, glaring at the man he knew so well. "Moriarty," Sherlock greeted in a blunt tone, turning his attention to the woman at the back of the room that was standing next to the stairs. He raised a brow "Ms. Adler." "Mr Holmes," she smiled, nodding curtly. Sherlock's view was soon blocked by Moriarty. Frowning, Sherlock looked up to lock eye contact with his nemesis. "Did you really think that I was gone Sherlock, that our problem was over?" "No." Moriarty sniggered, standing up straight and walking over to the only chair in the room, stroking the smooth oak before sitting down. "Of course you wouldn't would you?" "Obviously," Sherlock said simply, smirking for a second before regaining his normal cold stare. He then glanced towards the stairs to watch Irene Adler, noting that she now had her riding crop out and was tapping it lightly against the wall. She winked at him. Playing he usual mischievous self as usual. Sherlock blinked in response, dismissing her flirtatious behaviour.

Hearing Moriarty's chuckles Sherlock turned to watch the criminals response, unamused by the reaction.

"Nice to know you didn't develop any humour while you were 'dead'," Moriarty stated in a sympathetic voice. Getting up, he sauntered over to Sherlock, tapping the detective's head. Bending down, Moriarty edged towards the detective's ear. "The game's not over Sherlock, there's just been a draw and I've decided to press the restart button." "And what if I decide to quit?" Moriarty moved away from Sherlock but he was still bent down. He stared at the chained man, his lips twitching before forming into a sly smile. "Oh, I think we both know that you enjoy our little games just as much as I do-"

Sherlock woke up, jolting forward. Panting in shock he looked around to make sure he was defiantly in 221B Baker Street. The same familiar wallpaper covered the walls of the flat. After observing the room to make sure he was safe, Sherlock got off the sofa and walked sleepily into the kitchen. He looked around to see his work in progress experiments left abandoned on the dining table. The consulting detective stretched and walked over to the counter to make some tea. While waiting for the kettle to boil, Sherlock walked over to the window to stare down at the bustling streets. Picking up his violin, he started to compose a song, scribbling down music notes and symbols as he played; trying to forget the dream he'd had only minutes ago.

He knew full well that Moriarty wasn't alive. Sherlock had seen the criminal die with his own eyes. But the detective still had a gut feeling that he had somehow survived. The criminal was very…'changeable', not to mention unexpected.

Sherlock stopped playing and just stared out the window, watching the rain start to pat at the glass. Sherlock let all his thoughts consume his attention for a few minutes. Soon after there was a knock at the door, Sherlock guessed it wasn't John as he would have barged in by now. Smiling at the thought of his friend's impatient personality, Sherlock walked over to the door, opening it to see the local postman standing outside holding out an envelope. "For Sherlock Holmes, 221B Baker Street?" Sherlock took the envelope and nodded. "Thank you," he said before closing the door. Sherlock eyed the envelope before deciding to open it and read the letter inside. Sherlock bit his lip as his eyes scanned the piece of paper. The detective squeezed his eyes shut, his bottom lip quivering before opening them again. Sherlock opened his mouth but didn't say anything for quite a while. He took a breath before finally reading out what it said; in a raspy voice. "**I O U!**"


End file.
